


Makeout Point

by Soquilii9



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: Joint venture with Ragpants and Claire GabrielDISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and the premise behind Star Trek.





	

The Quantum Cafe' - what a ridiculous name, thought Janeway, taking a small table in Species 8472's holographic version of the bar. San Francisco was a lifetime away, but this re-creation belied it. She twirled Boothby's rose between her fingers, lifting it once again to catch the sweet, musky scent. Of course, Boothby wasn't Boothby, any more than this was the real Quantum Cafe', or even this, a rose.

 _A rose is a rose is a rose_ , someone had once said. Did it matter that it was replicated? She adored roses and this one's familiar fragrance sent a pang of homesickness through her. Still, as a realist, she could not deny its unauthenticity. It was only a facsimile. Everything here was.

She idly wondered why the genuine Boothby, back at the Academy - not the astonishingly accurate copy here at the 8472 Starfleet simulation - had frequently gifted her with cut roses for her room. Her father was a hotshot Admiral, to be sure, but she was just another cadet; her father never paid that much attention to her, anyway. Boothby wasn't trying to curry favor – not with her father nor with her; of that she was certain. The old man simply wasn't the type to stoop to such inferior behavior. Perhaps the answer was simpler: he was just a kind old man. Approaching footsteps broke into her reverie. She smiled an invitation to her First Officer to join her. The breeze that followed on his brisk wake carried with it a subtle, delicious masculine scent, vying with the rose in its ability to distract her.

'Said your good-byes to Archer?' she asked.

Chakotay nodded, easing back into the chair. 'She's looking forward to going home.'

'So are we all,' replied Janeway, wistfully.

Chakotay, smiling, indicated the rose lying on the table. 'A secret admirer?'

Janeway smiled back. 'Oh, this…a farewell gift from Boothby: a genetically recreated rose.' She held it out so that he could share the fresh fragrance. 'Smells just like a real one.

Chakotay wrapped his fingers around Janeway's hand and lifted the flower closer. 'Mmmm. Smells real to me.’

Janeway grinned at his bold flirtatiousness and laid the rose gently aside. 'Can I buy you a drink, Commander?'

'Only if you're having one.'

At that moment the waiter placed a long-stemmed goblet, in which pale blue liquor bubbled, on the table in front of the Captain. 'Name your pleasure…' she encouraged him, taking a sip.

He flashed a dimpled grin before turning to order the same from the waiter. Janeway glanced around the bar. 'So…is it as you remember?'

Chakotay scanned the establishment. 'Close enough. Different chairs at the bar, I think. Subtle differences, if any. How does it look to you?'

'Just like home.' Janeway watched as a couple of uniformed officers got up to leave. 'In fact, a bit _too_ much like home. It brings back memories.'

'Good ones?'

'Some,' she admitted. 'You?'

'Some,' he echoed. 'Though I have to admit that I never thought I'd be sitting in the Officer's Club at the Academy again. I resigned my commission - left on bad terms. But of course, you knew that.'

'Of course - but I'll make you a promise. When we get home - _when_ , mind you - I'll buy you a drink in the real Quantum Cafe even if I have to bring an armed escort with me.'

His laughter was genuine. 'I'll hold you to that promise, Kathryn.'

'I'm sure you will,' she smiled, and took another sip, regarding him fondly. They had been through so much together and had grown increasingly close; it was difficult to maintain the professional distance recommended by Starfleet. She idly wondered what he had been like before their shared adventure, even before the days when it would have been her duty to arrest him. She held the glass with two slender fingers under the bowl and ventured to ask, 'Chakotay?'

His drink arrived and he tasted it quickly before answering. 'Yes?'

'Tell me about those days - your Academy days.'

'My profile is in the computer, Kathryn.'

'Yes: cold, hard facts. Sponsor, courses, grades, professor's names…very little about _you_ \- the kind of person you were.' She leaned forward, studying him. 'What were you really like?'

'I was young.'

'Weren't we all.'

He grinned companionably. 'I rebelled against authority at every turn. I even left the Academy at one point.'

'But you returned…became an exemplary cadet...graduated with honors…'

He shrugged. 'When we get back to the Officers' Club you're liable to hear tales about that _exemplary_ cadet…'

'Don't worry. I had a bit of a rep, myself.'

'What could you possibly have done?'

'During my last year at the Academy, I used to sneak smokes on the roof of the dormitory.'

'You _smoked_? How did you get past the carcinogen ban? The security measures?’

'It wasn't easy, but my dorm room was on the top floor and the door to the roof was right next to it. If I was careful after lights out, the scanners couldn't spot me. The roof wall shielded me from the compound. Smoking was my crutch until I discovered coffee. I dissipated nearly every night, so I had to keep a sharp eye out. I remember peeking over the wall and watching one of the male cadets take a midnight run through the campus after curfew. He never ran on the pavement; he kept to the grass and even ploughed through Boothby's flowerbeds. A time or two, Security nearly caught him, but somehow he always eluded them. I was up there cheering for him the whole time. It satisfied the rebel in me, I guess,' she grinned. 'I never found out who he was.'

She took another sip of her drink and glanced up. He was grinning even wider; his strong white teeth flashing.

'What?'

'That was _me_ , Kathryn.'

She set her drink down. ' _No_.'

He nodded. 'I ran nearly every night to ease the stress, and I ran through the grass to soften the sound.’

She shook her head in disbelief.

'I always wondered why a cloud perpetually hovered over Christopher Pike Hall,' he said with a straight face. It was her turn to laugh.

'Doesn't seem to have done you any harm,' he ventured. 'You're the one I kept hearing about who consistently stumped her Quantum Theory professors.'

'I owe it all to cigarettes.'

'…and took top honors in mathematics…'

'That was me.'

‘…and turned down a date with Wil Riker.'

'Now, where did you hear _that_?!'

'Remember that cozy little coffee bistro near the campus? I was seated at the next table. Just think, Kathryn, you could have been on board the Enterprise - as family - instead of in command of your own starship.'

'It's debatable as to which would have been the better outcome,' she said frankly.

'I think this scenario would win, hands down. Odd, isn't it,' he mused, 'that we've crossed paths before, yet never met. Ever wonder how things might have turned out if say, ten years ago I had bought you coffee at that same bistro?'

'Things would have been even more complicated than they are now.'

'More complicated? I don't see how…' Chakotay began.

'We might have been ex-lovers now.'

Chakotay's usually expressive face went blank.

 _Well, you killed that conversation, Kathryn_ , she thought. She wondered what had possessed her to even say such a thing. There was a long moment of awkward silence then mercifully, the house lights came up.

Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, Kathryn asked, 'Is it me, or are they closing earlier than I remember?'

'Earlier,' answered Chakotay, chuckling slightly and graciously allowing her extricate her foot from her mouth. 'However, there's always the Vulcan nightclub around the corner. It's Ponfarr night.'

She burst out laughing. 'Ponfarr night? Does Tuvok know?'

'It's in my report. If he read it, he knows.'

'Thanks, I'll pass. There's a full moon tonight and there things I still want to see - just once more - before I leave.' The glasses stood on the table, empty. She offered her hand and he took it. 'Care to walk with me?'

'Can't think of anything I'd rather do at the moment, Kathryn.'

Feeling carefree and lighthearted, they stepped out into the well-lit street and strolled without purpose until Chakotay maneuvered them away from the lights and noise of the quadrangle toward the outlying landscape approaching the bay, for he was looking for something.

'Ah, here it is. I wondered how accurate their recreation was.'

He pushed his way through a barely discernable gap in a tall, thick hedgerow, pulling Kathryn behind him. On the other side, a wide, grassy promontory overlooked San Francisco Bay. The view of the surrounding waters; sparkling with city lights and the massive Golden Gate Bridge spanning them; was unrestricted on three sides; protected on the fourth behind them by the massive hedgerow. Despite the ambient glow, stars twinkled brightly, high above them.

'I always heard the view from here was breathtaking,' said Kathryn, gleefully.

'You've never been here before?'

'Never at night. If I wasn't grade-grinding, I was…'

'Up on the roof, smoking,' he laughed, and she backhanded his shoulder.

'What about you? Ever come up here while you were cadet?'

'Sveta brought me up here a couple of times to talk.'

'Sveta? Oh, yes, the Russian girl who inducted you into the Maquis.' A pause ensued before Janeway, with perfect timing, asked, 'To talk?'

'Yes, we _talked_.'

'I don't believe it.'

'What don't you believe?'

'That she came up here with you then managed to resist the charms of a ladykiller.'

'What?!'

'That's how Tuvok described you in his report. Said you turned on the charm, chatting up Archer in the bar. Pretty effectively too.'

'That sounds nothing like Tuvok.'

'He's been known to throw a few surprises my way.'

'That's an understatement.' In the midst of this banal chatter, Chakotay had been watching Kathryn; how the breeze lifted tendrils of her hair and how the lights reflected in those lovely gray eyes. She was watching the bay; someone down there was midnight sailing; the lights of the small boat dipped with the motion of the waves. 'If someone like Tuvok described me that way, why hasn't it hasn't worked with you all these years?' he teased.

'Who says it hasn't?' she said cryptically, still looking at the sailboat. 'You've managed to get Kathryn Janeway to come with you to Makeout Point.' Her voice was playful and seductive; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She nearly laughed at his expression, but instead placed her hands softly upon his chest. They stood together, silently regarding each other for a long time. He gently took her by the shoulders. She made no protest as he pulled her closer, after seeking and finding permission in her eyes.

Something in the combination of the wine flowing through their veins, releasing inhibitions; the breathtaking panorama spread below them; the soft night breezes and rustling grasses; and the knowledge that they were completely hidden from view yet could see the world below, urged them on. Their breathing escalated as their bodies moved closer, and his hands moved from her shoulders down her arms and encircled her. The small hands he admired so much now rested on each side of his neck. He bent, she tiptoed, and their lips drew closer, tentatively at first, touching lightly, then lingered for longer and longer spaces of unmarked time. They each failed to question the wisdom of their actions as the terrible needs of one, the repressed longings of the other, automatically took over.

Finally, for a short respite, they stood back from each other, minds completely in sync, eyes locked. He slid his jacket zipper, shrugged his shoulders and shed the garment down to the wrists. He caught it and spread it on the soft grasses.

She laid hers beside it, then approached him and slid her hands under the formfitting tunic, spreading the neck to avoid scratching him with the Maquis insignia. She lifted it over his head. While her arms were up he grasped the bottom of hers and smoothly removed both it and her staid Starfleet-issue bra. He released the clasps in her hair and it tumbled down, concealing that which he had purposely revealed, and he brushed the long tresses aside. Slowly kissing her as his hands tenderly explored, he lowered them both to their knees. Her head fell back and his lips slowly traveled her neck to her sharp, firm nipples. Her hands were in his hair, pressing him to her, as if he was of a mind to stop and abandon her, so with a reassuring, strong hand in the middle of her back, he lay her down, never allowing his mouth to break contact with her soft fullness.

After a while it became necessary to break contact to remove the rest of their clothing, for the urgent necessity to feel the warmth of skin from head to toe was overpowering. Chakotay slid her trousers down and pushed her boots ahead of them, then knelt up to swiftly hitch his down and off, never taking his eyes from her. Then, hovering above her, weight resting on large hands entwined in the long grasses concealing them, he slowly lowered himself until his lips touched hers. Her hands sought his shoulders, pulling his chest to her, arching to press her belly to his.

The heat of his passion was obvious and she moved to caress him, but he took her hands and positioned himself between her legs. A last kiss, and he snaked his body down, big shoulders pushing her thighs wide, tongue trailing wet down her belly. She gasped in anticipation and struggled; he still held her hands, and as his tongue dipped and played, she gripped his with astonishing strength. He sensed she was biting her lips to avoid crying out, for fear some passer-by would hear them, but it was very late, and he knew they were safe from discovery. 'Don't be afraid, Kathryn,' he told her, lifting his head. 'No one's around. I want to hear if I please you.' He released her hands and she raised up on her elbows, panting for breath, looking warily around. 'I promise; it's all right.' Gently, his hand on her breast, he pushed her back down and buried his head once again, and his technique ripped a cry from her throat despite her struggle to remain silent.

With the one hand stroking and cupping each breast and the other tickling between her legs, occasionally dipping and withdrawing, and the insistent tongue sending electric shocks through her, she was soon writhing in ecstasy. The next moment his head was beside hers, his breath hot upon her ear, and he was deep within her. It had happened swiftly, too swiftly, as if he feared she would refuse, but any second thoughts she might have had wafted away on the night breeze that caressed them both. Holding her in his arms, supported on his elbows, hips pressing together, he stroked in a slow, gentle, steady rhythm. The night sounds were diminished in her ears by his breath, the fresh aroma of earthy grass overwhelmed in her nostrils by his masculine scent. The only thing still clear were the stars overhead, bearing witness to an act as old as creation itself, between the two who had long despaired of it.

 _A rose is a rose is a rose_ , someone had once said. Did it matter that it was replicated? Everything surrounding us is replicated, she thought involuntarily, as the sweet friction continued. The surroundings, the ambience, even the grass isn't real. But he is. Being here with him is the only thing truly real.

His muscles under her fingers were quivering now; she knew he was waiting for her, so she cleared her mind and somehow found the strength for one more paroxysm, letting it overtake her. His exploded soon after in straining harmony as they rocked together in love, joy and total abandonment. When the quivering of his muscles had ceased, and their breathing had slowed somewhat, he kissed her softly and whispered in her ear, 'Please don't say you're sorry, Kathryn.'

‘I'm only sorry I don't have a cigarette,' she grinned, panting.

'You know, that complication you spoke of,' he said, alluding to her earlier remark, 'I don't think we would have been ex-lovers. If I had ever captured you in any way, Kathryn Janeway, I would have never let you go. Then,' he grinned, white teeth flashing in the dim lights off the embarcadero, 'you would have been with me…in the Maquis.'

'Chakotay, you know very well that that alternate reality would have affected this timeline - and thinking of it is giving me a headache.'

'I know a cure.'

His slow, hot kisses silenced her and his warm hands were once again upon her body. As she ran her fingers through his cropped black hair, and her heart again began racing, she knew it was going to be a long night on Makeout Point.

 

The End


End file.
